Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Gizza job?

There is a bit of a buzz about the Blairs at the moment, with the Daily Mail printing a series of articles about the reviled couple’s money-making enterprises post Number Ten. It’s not comfortable reading. There’s the government pension, of course, enough in itself for the average person to feel they’d hit the jackpot. But that’s peanuts compared to the suspiciously astute property deals, the huge fees for private speaking, seats on managing boards and  ludicrous but well-remunerated roles such as ‘Middle East Peace Envoy’ which paid him handsomely without there ever being any delivery of the promised peace.

Yes, it’s the Daily Mail – hardly friends of Blair – but it’s not the person it’s the principle; how do otherwise average achievers reach exalted positions? It’s like a re-imagined version of the Peter Principle, whereby dullards reach and remain in jobs at which they are incompetent. The phrase ‘promoted out of trouble’ has long been used to describe the inexplicable rise of the clumsy, the inept and the downright embarrassing who, on screwing up a position are promoted rather than being fired. But for most people it tends to stop there: The boss’s son is given a cushy back seat job on higher pay but out of sight. The high-flying fuck up is gently placed on a path to a lucrative pension; no heavy lifting involved.

But every other day the newspapers seem to have stories about people being sacked from ridiculously well-paid jobs for levels of incompetence that beggar belief. And then being paid hefty sums to stop them from telling tales to honour pre-engagement ‘early release’ clauses. Some people manage to go from being sacked from one high-profile job after another, apparently picking up their multiple-millions each time; enough for an average person to retire to the sun many times over. And they seem to do this with not one shred of shame or acceptance of blame. How many of us have musingly volunteered to take on one such job, fuck up and then disappear with a suitcase full of money?

The top of society is littered with grandiose failures; the men who spent £11billion on a computer system for the NHS, which never worked. The arms procurement programmes which also cost billions but likewise never get delivered. Massive, vainglorious reorganisations of government departments, disrupting lives, costing millions, but never being completed because administrations change. Bankers who bow out having bankrupted their companies in the pursuit of ‘shareholder confidence’. And in their wake, a trail of lawyers, accountants and asset-stripping parasites, all getting rich from ineptitude, while lowlier clients lose their livelihood.

How did I get here? Fuck knows.

Ambitious parents used to tell their children to set goals and work to achieve them. To decide what they wanted to do in life then work hard to become the very best they could. Have a game plan, keep your nose clean and keep on plugging away, son, you’ll get to the top if you deserve it and do the right thing. But work no longer pays that way, it seems. A conscientious parent should consider imbuing in their offspring that in fact it is crime which pays, ideally very public crime, with misuse of office and misappropriation of funds being the very pinnacle of success. In Boys From the Black Stuff, Yosser went round saying “Gizza job, I can do that!” Today he’d be saying “Ah go on, mister, give us the sack, eh?”


  1. With the advent of the EU civil servants, politicians and others realised they had struck gold as another monolithic unaccountable gravy train came into existence. One day we will face the consequences of statism of ever increasing the size and layers of government. Making factories for the unemployable, unprincipled, unscrupulous chancer to corruptly pocket taxpayers money. We toil they steal. This cannot go on indefinitely the money or the taxpayers patients or both will run out. Bring out the guillotines now I say enough is enough.

  2. Great article. I particularly enjoyed the caption under the photograph.

    Every day I kick myself. If only I'd gone to work in a lucrative area of the public sector instead of working hard in the private sector to start a business and employ people, I could've been rich now. Our old parent company CEO even managed to swing it so that he could 'lose' lots of working class people's Christmas Club money, and he became Chairman of the CBI!

    I could have pursued a career undertaking endless training courses and gaining qualifications, meaningless to anyone other than the non-jobs that write endless reams of legislation and procedures. I could've worked for a QuANGO, become an expert at computer solitaire, and persecuted an Irish family for refusing to ice a cake. Also, being a carrot top, I could've been a failed socialist leader, moved to an enormously well paid non-job post on the European Commission, with a position, salary and pension for my Wife as well!

    The possibilities would be endless. A decent £50K+ salary with a nice pension, or perhaps more? I'm not that greedy. Spouting endless Batmanghelidjh-style bullshit rhetoric, and gesticulating wildly in useless Powerpoint presentations, I could've fashioned my own department. If I significantly reduced my performance, made loads of mistakes, and suffered a meltdown, the sky could have been the limit!

    So, here I sit, still thinking of ditching it all in, applying for that prestigious non-job in the public sector. A long job title is what I dream about. At least five words long, with at least 10 division and department names underneath. All I have to do is invent myself a few fashionable inequalities, lob them on my CV like veritable word grenades, and I'm through the door.

    1. International Business Hub Synergy Coordinator?

    2. Fuck me, that sounds impressive.

  3. Proof the Battsby' is a King in the making, his derision and superstition and vision are the fusion of words on a pallet exploded with wisdom for the literate and fetishist. Damn', brings a tear to god damn atheist eye! Hoorah!